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Post by Kor on Jan 19, 2020 11:11:20 GMT -6
My Dearest Chris Just, I am in the strangest of places. I feel as though I must restrain myself from filling this letter with everything I would ever want to tell you - an impossible task, of course, and one that would take up much of your time, which is now more precious than ever. I am caught, dear Chris, between this feeling and the knowledge that everything I need to tell you, I already have. This will be my last correspondence, to you, or indeed to anyone. Knowing you, as you are, I do not need to tell you what this means, nor do I need to tell you what to do or what you are. Nor, I expect, do I need to tell you that I am proud - in you, of course, but also in my own choices until this point. Have no fear now. Yours, Justinian The Librarian
Seventeen, in her nightclothes, Chris held the letter between pale fingers. She had known it would be waiting for her, slipped under the front door, and she stood there still, bare feet against the cold ground. She had known it would be waiting for her - though she had not known it would be there tonight. It was addressed, as he had written, to Chris Just. She had never seen this name before; But, of course, Justinian never miswrote. It was less a name than it was a question: Was this letter for her, or wasn't it?
It was still dark, the deadest of night, when Chris stood dressed, one hand resting on the cool metal of the doorknob. It was loose, practically ready to wrist just from the force of her hand laying upon it. She steadied her hand, making it still enough that the knob stopped its anticipatory clicking, and the house went silent. And a floorboard creaked. Chris turned quick, but did not jump. Light in the barest cool blue of the night drifting in through the curtains, Noah froze when she laid her eyes on him. "Hi, Noah," Chris whispered. "You should be in bed." The boy relaxed just a bit, but did not say anything, quiet in the night house as they had played before. Instead, he stared up at her with eyes wide and dark, a dilation of questions and curiosity and awe. He did not ask his questions, though. So after a moment, Chris asked one instead. In a whisper so hushed it seemed part of the house, Chris asked, "Do you want to come with me?" He took a breath too big for his little body and nodded. She held an arm open and Noah raised himself to his tiptoes to approach her side as quietly as he could. Chris pulled him in, then lifted, holding the small boy against her with one arm, his bare feet hanging high above the ground, and with her other hand, Chris turned the doorknob.
Another doorknob turned. Only once the door was fully open did Chris set him down on the ground. "Here it is," she whispered to him, though there was no longer any reason to whisper. And she held out a hand and pointed towards the door at the back of the room empty but for furniture covered in white sheets. "And there," she whispered, "is the library."
justinian is like [speaks without contractions] Justinian is like *sits in a room with many chairs set out despite never implying the library was any more than just him*
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Kor Page
Jan 23, 2020 17:33:36 GMT -6
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Post by Kor on Jan 23, 2020 17:33:36 GMT -6
AAA JOEY CAN NEVER GIVE LUMI HER JACKET BECAUSE LUMI DOESN'T GET COOOOLLLD lumi has the vibes of someone who takes hot pics but like, eating mcdonalds and shit.
lumi is a bit like "please just do it already. i want my heart to finally be fully broken." "Princess, rest / We'll talk in our sleep / But I wouldn't dare to sit too close" cool but like image of Lumi as the prince and Joey as the forlorn princess
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Post by Kor on Jan 24, 2020 15:56:32 GMT -6
some good posts from alex's server [ankita, posing by her husband's mysteriously defiled grave] i am such a milf
ankita staring over the edge in horror is easy to explain and not look in depth at because like, oh shit, murder. but saint's mask is cracked when we see him later, and like, what if it wasn't the fall that cracked it, and what if ankita actually saw his face and recognized him from the very beginning
character development part 1 gabrielle: i need you to look at this super cursed necklace i stole tanmayi: please say psyche part 4 tanmayi: i need you to confirm my suspicions that these people are murderers gabrielle: please say psyche
angel: yeah it sucks that ruby is even more well known than carver :/ at least he didn't tell everyone your name and help get you arrested brant, who knows ruby could literally do exactly that if he felt like it: right.
dusky being so shot down by whatever dramatic note i decided to end part 3 on that i cant remember to the point where she's acknowledging that her stupid helmet has just been an unncessary obstacle and isn't that cool or sexy. dusky, acknowledging she's distracting herself by acknowledging she's distracting herself:
griffins: i can't just walk away from this for my own safety and let it keep happening. that isn't the right thing to do. leslie, who ACTIVELY contributed for his own safety: cool, fine, whatever
ollie: you guys went from murdering me to a coup? downgrade lol
yan: genuine question, why the fuck do you talk like that? dusky: narrative entertainment justifying a first person perspective yan: ... cool
"one stops being a prisoner as soon as they decide to escape" is a cool theory in regards to leslie but tobe, who has been trying to escape for three fucking years, might have a bone to pick
[ollie voice] i have a phd in mashing buttons and that's why i'm banned from playing fortnite
1. calling leslie a "clown" 2. ollie texted his staff "Everything's okay, please don't start an uprising, it's all good."
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Kor Page
Jan 25, 2020 18:15:51 GMT -6
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Post by Kor on Jan 25, 2020 18:15:51 GMT -6
About five of them sat in the break room, the lights of most of the rest of the facility off, the ceiling lights casting a fluorescent glow that barely drained down the hall. Rashmi's footsteps preceded her, the only one absent from the break room, uneven strides just audible over the low late night conversation. She made her way through one side of the double door that led into the room. The conversation went silent. Rashmi stood, hair dripping with sweat, clutching what remained of her right arm. "Hi everyone," she greeted. Then, with cool authority, "Call an ambulance."
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Post by Kor on Jan 28, 2020 13:17:34 GMT -6
second time i've been like haha this pic of robert pattinson looks like damien. man.
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Post by Kor on Feb 1, 2020 14:05:13 GMT -6
kit in a ski mask and a baggy hoodie with the hood up. sweet. kit leaves bodies w plastic bags tied arnd their heads?
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Kor Page
Feb 2, 2020 22:01:30 GMT -6
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Post by Kor on Feb 2, 2020 22:01:30 GMT -6
11pm prime time for increasingly convoluted cole night scenarios. one way or another nikolai finds out abt KIT and cole is like cool I'll give her KITs burner number and we'll get a new superpowered family member and she won't rat on me it's a win-win but they're still sharing a room at the hotel and nikolai wakes up from a nightmare and decides to send a text and a buzz comes from somewhere in the room. cole wakes up, glances over at nikolai who might just be clever enough to fake sleep, then creeps over and pulls KIT's burner phone out of her bag. ".... shit." without looking back at nikolai, despite knowing now she's definitely awake, cole just grabs her normal phone and heads into the hotel hallway, tucking the burner into her pocket. just before the elevator doors close, she catches a glimpse of nikolai exiting the room to follow her. in the elevator, cole dials kazoo's number. "hi, kazoo," she says, with enough thinly veiled urgency to wake her up, "i gave nikolai KIT's burner but she texted it and the burner was in my bag." only the cover story - kazoo knows enough to guess the truth but any eavesdroppers won't. kazoo is awake enough to have unlocked the door and be leaning on the counter in the suite when cole gets there. cole closes the door behind her - to leave it open would be suspicious - but they stand just near enough to the door that their conversation could be made out by someone pressing their suspicious ear to the other side. kazoo waits until it feels like the *perfect moment* to start dropping lines like "why would they plant it on you?" and "maybe they were just trying to get rid of it"
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Kor Page
Feb 3, 2020 14:18:24 GMT -6
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Post by Kor on Feb 3, 2020 14:18:24 GMT -6
Pandora thinks it's *hilarious* that Rashmi can either restrain her or hold her mouth shut but not both
Image of Pandora fucking with Rashmi, running her finger down her chest. Rashmi is unamused, frowning down at her with her arms crossed. Pandora: Don't cross your arms at me. You can't even do it properly. Rashmi, self conscious about her arm for the first time ever and possibly the first time she's been made self conscious period: ... Pandora, absolutely frigidly: Aww, you're cute when you're self-aware.
Checks out that Pandora would get under Rashmi's skin about that. You didn't see *her* giving up her arm for her magic.
Also Pandoras curse of choice is "holy fuck"
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Kor Page
Feb 6, 2020 16:49:19 GMT -6
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Post by Kor on Feb 6, 2020 16:49:19 GMT -6
Wonder if listening to prom dress by mxmtoon too much is a good idea Is crying alone at parties not as much of the high school experience as actually attending parties actually
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Kor Page
Feb 10, 2020 9:44:27 GMT -6
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Post by Kor on Feb 10, 2020 9:44:27 GMT -6
listening to fun. is its own set of human emotions
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Kor Page
Feb 10, 2020 10:09:58 GMT -6
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Post by Kor on Feb 10, 2020 10:09:58 GMT -6
Sometimes all you've gotta do is stand in the sun for a few minutes
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Post by Kor on Feb 10, 2020 12:06:47 GMT -6
sometimes doing group work gives me an unbecoming urge to use the word "normie" but i promise myself i won't let it come to that
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Post by Kor on Feb 10, 2020 19:56:58 GMT -6
GOING SO FUCKING INSANE FOR FUN. RN
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Kor Page
Feb 19, 2020 8:58:11 GMT -6
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Post by Kor on Feb 19, 2020 8:58:11 GMT -6
I think I haven't given enough attention Chris realizing Chime isn't in the house, it's in her; it turns her from a poor protector to literally the problem, which I think would break her a bit more than I give her credit for.
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Post by Kor on Feb 20, 2020 18:04:59 GMT -6
Music fills the lounge that opens up off the lobby of The Black Valentine Hotel. A pretty singer in a red dress is accompanied by a pianist and a bassist on the small stage and the tune dances off the room's golden light. The dark and shiny floors reflect the bulbs of the modern chandeliers overhead which in turn reflect in the lines of wine glasses behind the bar. The entire place has a shine that makes it feel like a wonderful night. Most weekdays, the Valentine's lounge is reserved for patrons only, but on certain evenings, the owner likes to open the doors and let live performances draw in a bit more buzz to anyone willing to pay for the cocktails. An ample turnout of dazzled streetgoers and hotel guests alike fill the lounge while the lulling voice of the woman on stage holds the atmosphere in a romantic calm.
The name Daz Primrose has been nicely written on a blackboard outside announcing the time he'd be performing and Daz has been brought to a dimly-lit backstage area off the lounge. Two staff members are there with him to help the show run smoothly, although it probably isn't as much fanfare as Daz could hope for, half their attention preoccupied with the current performance. He can just barely see out the door into the lounge, the atmosphere very different from when he'd been earlier to talk to the owner about performing.
The band's last song ends. The chanteuse, in a voice that suits the atmosphere as much as the music, repeats her and her instrumentalists' names and thanks the audience. A round of applause goes up and then the sound of conversation fills the space as the stage awaits its next performer.
A few minutes after the band has all packed away, someone climbs the stairs onto the stage from the audience, finishing a conversation with someone unseen. "*There* she is," Daz can hear one the staff members sigh.
The host approaches the microphone with a long gait and adjusts it to her height, leaning forward. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen." She pauses for a moment, confident smile growing as attention seeps in her direction. Then she gives her head a little cock in the direction the singer left. "Wasn't she lovely?" There's some laughter and a bit of applause.
The host straightens up a bit, showing off the silky and half-buttoned violet shirt beneath her striped suit jacket. "Thank you all so much for choosing to spend this absolutely beautiful night right here at the Valentine." Another small round of applause as the host leans into the mic, lowering her voice like she's sharing a secret. "We've got something really special for you all tonight. A real diamond in the rough. ... Or, at least, that's what he told me." Laughter from the audience and, as she takes a bit of a pause, a grin from the host. "But seriously. Please give a warm welcome to San Francisco's newest rising star Daz Primrose."
The host holds an arm wide to welcome Daz onto the stage. As he approaches centre, she passes by behind him, with a clap on the shoulder and a murmured, "Break a leg, charmer."
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